


don't let me go

by autumnstwilight (sewohayami)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Body Horror, Fix-It, IgNoct, M/M, One Shot, Orpheus and Eurydice, Resurrection, entering the crystal when you are not meant to go there hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 06:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewohayami/pseuds/autumnstwilight
Summary: Ignis brings Noctis back.





	don't let me go

**Author's Note:**

> So there have been a couple of requests on the meme for an IgNoct Orpheus and Eurydice style fix-it. This... doesn't exactly resemble the Greek myth, but it's my take on the concept of Ignis dragging Noct out of the afterlife through sheer force of will.
> 
> Prompts:  
> https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=11338554#cmt11338554  
> https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=8243502#cmt8243502

Though his eyes no longer functioned in the normal sense, they still watered and itched intensely when the smoke from the incense reached them. He could tell from the way the pitch darkness had thinned into a more watery murk that the dawn was soon to break. All things were arranged in the room. On one pedestal stood a silver basin of fresh snow for the Glacian, transported with care from Ghovoras Rift, on another a harvest offering for the Archean. A fish gutted and cleaned alive for the Hydrean, still twitching, blood mingled with seawater. For the Fulgurian, there was sand glassed by a lightning strike, polished into a protective amulet, and in the direction guarded by the Infernian, the heart of an Arba calf, burnt in offering, flames still licking over the charred meat. At the last pedestal, that of the Draconian, he paused before thrusting downward with one of the twin blades that had accompanied him for so many years. He ascended the stairs, rocking on his heels a little at the top as he waited for the precise time. The wristwatch he wore beeped the moment the disk of the sun crested the horizon, and he spoke.

“I am Ignis Scientia! Eleventh generation descendant of Artorius Lucis Caelum! Twenty-third generation descendant of Oracle Hera Illumine Fleuret!”

 _In other words, absolutely nothing at all,_ he thought. Half the nobility boasted closer ties to one or both lines than he did. He could only hope that his ancestors would hear their names when invoked, and decide then to take pity on this distantly related stranger. But he must finish before the sun rose in full.

“I have come here to plead for the intercession of the Messengers, and the blessing of the Gods. He told me that the Crystal recalls all, the memory of every creature to ever walk the surface of Eos. The glaives have told me it is within your power to return life to those who have lost it.”

He began ascending the stairs toward the Crystal, now removed from its chains to rest before the throne. Even through his gloves, he could feel the electric prickling of the magic as he reached out.

“Whatever the price for this is, I will pay it. Take my senses, those that I have left, if it pleases you. Take my soul in exchange for his. Turn my body to ash, if you will. Take my life.”

He whispered the last words as he lay his hands on the Crystal.

“Give him back.”

The pain was instant and beyond comprehension. He had thought that he remembered, the fires of Altissia, exploding from within his skull, consuming the sight from his terrified eyes. He had survived it once, and so, he reasoned, it could be endured a second time. He had been foolish. Time dulls all memories, but the renewed agony was a brilliant and inescapable flame. Everything vanished from his mind, and he clung tightly to his last, fragile thread of conscious reason, that of his goal in coming here.

With vague awareness, he felt the leather of his gloves slipping from his hands, the palms and fingers having burned through. His body shook violently, fighting him every inch of the way as he sank his hands and arms into the Crystal, and oh, that made the pain from before seem gentle. He was sure that, had he been able to see his arms, the flesh would have melted clean off the bone.

_No! Let me die! End it! I don't want to die! Make it stop! I– I can't– don't– please!_

His thoughts spiraled out of control, pleading nonsense. It may have been an eternity or merely a moment he spent within that well of pain, before a tiny quiet place opened up within his mind. He sat there numbly, watching his body burn. He was drifting, as if into sleep, when a name floated into his mind.

_Noct…_

_Noct!_ The reason he had come here, the reason that this suffering would not be in vain. Trembling and feeble, he pulled the strands of his consciousness together, forming a single wish.

 _You_ will _give him back._

As his awareness burned, so did the agony resurge, his being fraying at the edges and bleeding into the Crystal, all of it into a reverberant glass-shattering scream. Images flickered in his mind, some of them familiar, some of them unseen to him, all of them _Noctis, Noctis, Noctis._ He gathered up the pieces, careful not to miss a single fragment. The memories he held were like razor shards, tearing through his fingers. A heavy shape, a figure was forming within his arms, hewn from Crystal itself. Like fire, it burned him, and he willed himself to hold on tighter as his flesh bubbled and charred. Like daggers, the edges sliced at him, his face, his arms, his chest, his grip slick with blood and weakening. Like stone, it weighed down on him, crushing the air from his lungs and the pulse from his heart, depriving him even of the ability to scream. And still he convinced himself to hold tightly, as if the thing that was killing him were the lifeline that would save him. If he was to die, he would do it here, in Noct’s embrace.

_Together…at– at least..._

And for a moment, he was quite sure that he would die. Every thread of will in him was exhausted, the pain so far beyond human endurance that he let out a weak laugh. His existence was not meant for this place, and he’d unraveled, down to the bones, even as the pieces of Noctis pulled together. Just as it seemed the last wisps of him were to blow away, there was an unfamiliar presence. The pain receded, pushed back by a soft and golden light, though it was still nothing short of agonizing.

_Lady Lunafreya…? No… you are..._

A flash of golden hair, lips curled into a gentle smile. Before he could recognize her, everything faded.

He awoke, coughing weakly, tremors running through his entire body as he adjusted to a world without pain. It was all he could do to roll onto his back. At length, he regained awareness of the world around him, it seemed that the Crystal had hurled him backward, into the open space of the throne room, judging by how long the echoes of his ragged breath took to return. The floor swayed beneath him as though he were seasick, and clinging to the threadbare carpet, he dearly wished that the walls were not so far away.

Beside him, there was another voice panting and gasping, like a man who had been pulled from deep underwater. He reached out, and a hand found his, squeezing tight.

Then the man spoke, in the voice Ignis had heard a thousand times in dreams, in memories, from the phantasms that haunted him, but never in the waking world. A quiet laugh that was worth the entire dawn and then some.

“You’re a madman, Ignis. You know that?”


End file.
